


I'll Care for You, Imzadi

by acesandapricots



Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Imzadi (Star Trek), Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesandapricots/pseuds/acesandapricots
Summary: Will and Deanna respectively care for each other after (off-screen) intense scenes. Will bathes Deanna, feeds her, massages her with special Betazoid oils; for Deanna these moments are all about physicality. For Will, his needs are ones of control - and Deanna is uniquely situated to command the commander. Her caresses are more mental than physical, as she helps bring him home.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958257
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	I'll Care for You, Imzadi

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Kinktober 2020 challenge (prompt: aftercare).
> 
> My everlasting thanks to [whitmans_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitmans_kiss/) for beta reading!

**_Will, Deanna_ **

He reached up and carefully untied the ropes binding her wrists. As they fell away, she slumped into his embrace, limp and warm and sated.

“I’ve got you, Deanna,” Will murmured against her sweaty skin as he cradled her in his arms. Through their telepathic bond he could sense the disorder of her mind, overwhelmed with pleasure and pain and churning emotions; she was too far gone for directed thought.

He’d prepared the bathtub earlier, filling it with boiling water that had cooled to a soothing lukewarm now the scene had ended. He’d scented it with rose and cardamom, the scents they had figured out long ago were most likely to ground her as she returned from overwhelming physical sensation to the empathic noise of the ship. He lay her gently against the cool tub, watching carefully as the water rose over her soft, bruised hips to the swell of her breasts. Years of experience had taught him how much she was calmed by the sound of running water, and he turned the waterfall tap on, letting a small stream lightly splash into the bath.

As he gently pulled his own body away, Deanna’s arms flopped towards him, her fingers clumsily clutching at the air.

“ _Imzadi_ ,” she murmured, and Will couldn’t tell if it was in his mind or in his ears but he heard her. The hand that had reached out to grab a bottle of Betazoid ointment returned to her, the star at the center of his own galaxy, and he ran his fingers through her thick hair.

“I’m here, imzadi,” he said quietly as she leaned into the touch. He massaged her scalp for a few minutes before once again reaching for the ointment. She mewled in protest and he felt a stab of fear spike in her mind.

“Alright, alright, it’s okay, I've got you.” Will could feel her mind struggling to return to reality. She was still in too deep - time for plan B.

Her curls tangled in his hand, Will carefully climbed into the tub. She leaned into him, pressing her naked weight against his still-clothed chest. Water sloshed over the side, forming a foamy pool in the center of the bathroom floor.

He held Deanna, his arms wrapped around her; he rocked her gently, cradling her head until he felt the tension of her muscles flicker with awareness. He gently ran soapy suds over her burning skin, cleaning her of sweat and blood and tears and slick. He moved slowly, gently, worshipping her body in an entirely different way than he had earlier that night. When he thought she could take it, he tilted her chin up, off his broad chest, to look into her eyes.

What he saw there took his breath away. He knew she had been softly crying, her body spilling tears as it processed the emotions that overwhelmed even her strong mind. Her black eyes glistened, wide and misty and content. A slack smile played across her face. She looked up at him with pure love and trust, and his heart zinged as she sent one word into his mind: _imzadi_.

He kissed her reverently on the forehead, and Deanna curled into him, her hand moving, with just the smallest tremble, to lay against his chest. He held her there until the water cooled.

He tried to move gently as he turned off the still-running tap. He let more water spill onto the floor as he pushed himself out of the tub, more concerned with not jostling Deanna than with not making a mess. She didn’t claw at him; she leaned back into the hard wall of the tub, her bright, black eyes fixed on Will and a sloppy smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Two purple, sinfully soft towels were waiting for his use. He didn’t bother with his own wet clothes or pruning skin. When he had a towel in hand, Deanna reached trembling arms up to him and he lifted her gently up from the tub, water streaming down across her body. He braced her weight as she stood shakily on her own two feet, patting her dry while dropping soft kisses across her silky, pink skin.

When her trembles turned into full-body shakes, Will abandoned the now-wet towel and swathed Deanna in the softness of their spare and picked her up, cradling her against his chest. He could feel the emotions along their telepathic bond beginning to settle as her body was calmed. He gently sent a note of his own love back to her, and he heard her sigh and felt her relax into his hold.

Deanna needed the physicality of their scenes; she needed to be taken out of her mind and into her body, to not feel the emotions running across forty-two decks but to feel only the strike of a lash against her back, the scrape of Will’s lips on her nipple and his tongue on her clit. Will ran his fingers gently over a bite mark on her cheek, evidence of their latest attempts to draw her into pleasure and release. With one hand, he tucked the still-waiting bottle of Betazoid ointment into the waistband of his trousers.

A nest of blankets and pillows covered their bed, so that when Will set her down she was able to curl into their softness. He gently smoothed her hair away from her neck and shoulders, before it could get tangled beneath her heavy limbs. As he drew the towel away, the pink streaks crossing her back caught the light of a nearby star, suffusing them with a warm orange glow.

Quickly, and as silently as he could, he stripped himself of his wet clothes and slid on a discarded robe - Deanna’s, he thought, by the silky feel and the breeze dancing across his knees. As he moved, temporarily prevented from providing reassurance with his touch, he murmured softly to Deanna words of praise and filled his thoughts with love.

The only ingredients he recognized in the Betazoid ointment were powdered _muktok_ petals and crystalline oils drawn from the Loneel Valley, but he knew the ointment both soothed Deanna’s aching body and helped to center her wandering mind. He massaged it into her skin, letting the flowery, alien scent permeate the air around them.

When her body was glistening with the oil, he wrapped a blanket around her, covering her still-shaking limbs in a soft, soothing warmth. “Can you eat something for me now, imzadi?” he asked gently, no pressure in the question. He could feel her mind calm enough to answer, a peace beginning to radiate out from her thoughts.

Deanna nodded, and he propped her up as he fed her small spoonfuls of sweet chocolate syrup and warm tea. When she had eaten enough, he lay her back down in their nest of pillows and crawled in beside her, wrapping her in his arms. Cradling her head, his hands running through her damp curls, he whispered his love to her as she slowly fell asleep.

When he could feel the tenor of her thoughts change, as they dropped from near-conscious wanderings to the peace of contented dreams, he slowly, carefully disentangled himself and rose from the bed.

He had a lot of cleaning up to do, starting with the bathroom.

**=/\=**

**_Deanna, Will_ **

She had her own rituals for his aftercare. She could sense the muddiness of his mind, the overlapping images of cuffs and cages and nails and tongues mixed together with emotions of happiness and fear, how the deeply buried feelings of insecurity and guilt were blurring over into release and desire - desire to feel good, desire to do good, desire to be good, for her. Cutting through it all was a clear note of love and trust, and the whispered word in the back of his mind, repeating over and over again: _imzadi_.

His needs now weren’t physical - at least, not entirely so. Deanna had been holding him down with her mind, helping him to fight against his own body’s release for hours until she finally let him come. It was something she would never let him do to her, not with her history; her needs in their playtime were for trust and pure, physical sensation. Will needed to be controlled; the commander needed to be commanded. She could give that to him; she was honored to be trusted with that responsibility.

So as he lay on the floor, his body trembling and spent and his hands bound tightly behind his back, Deanna began her rituals with soothing praise and a gentle, reassuring touch to his mind.

“You are so beautiful, imzadi,” she murmured, her voice calm. “You were so good. You did so good.”

When she felt her words begin to pierce through his mental fog, she slowly knelt beside him so he could feel her physical presence, close enough that he could lean into her if and when he needed to.

“You did so good, imzadi,” she continued to reassure him. “You did exactly as I asked. You held on for so long, you were so good, so beautiful. You were so good. You came for me. You were so good.”

Will had started to shake, skin glistening with sweat and cum as low, crystalline light danced across their quarters. Deanna could feel the rush of tears coming before they erupted out of his closed eyes, and she sent him a calming tendril of love.

“Come to me, imzadi,” she whispered. And Will rolled over and buried his face in her lap, the tears spilling out and wetting her bare skin.

With that touch, Deanna was free to soothe Will physically as well as mentally. She ran her hands softly over his shaking muscles, across his arms and back and down his torso. She curled her fingers in his hair and traced the edges of his ears and lay her palms against his shoulders when a particularly violent shudder passed through his body. She didn’t stop touching him, soft, soothing caresses as he wept, telling him with her hands as well as her mind how much she loved him, how much she cared for him and would care for him. He gave into her completely, as he always did, his mind open to her every touch and his body putty in her hands.

With smooth, practiced care she used one hand to remove the cuffs still attached to him and loosen the clasps of his bonds. With the other she continued her caresses, doing her best to draw him into the feel of her hands and not the pinch of his tender, red wrists. Will continued to weep and shake, but was slowly calming under her gentle touch. Deanna continued to send soothing images and praise into his mind, her own thoughts alert to his every feeling.

When she knew he could handle it, and not a nanosecond before, Deanna cupped Will’s cheek, the roughness of his sweaty beard brushing prickles across her palms, and she whispered to him, “Let’s get you to bed. Can you do that for me, imzadi?” His answer was clear even through the turmoil of his mind. _For you_ , he thought. _Anything_.

Deanna helped him to rise, his limbs heavy and unsteady. It only took a few steps, his weight braced against Deanna’s smaller frame, before he could fall into their clean, cool sheets. She always tried to set him down lightly on their bed, conscious not to overwhelm his wrecked body, but she only had so much physical control over her tall, muscled lover. Will slumped into the welcoming softness with a light _thud_ , his body relaxing into the feel of the mattress.

Deanna resumed her caresses and murmerings, continuing to send Will calming, loving thoughts as his mind churned in the aftermath of their play. When his full-body shakes had turned to trembles, she reached a hand out and grabbed a special bottle of Betazoid oil she had recently acquired.

Will didn’t need the properties of Loneel crystals or the scents of her home planet to ground him, but the oil glided smoothly over his skin as she massaged it into his muscles. It smelled of rose and saltwater, scents familiar to both Betazed and Earth and emblematic of their shared bond. The oil was new but the scents were their old companions, and Deanna knew the power of ritual. The scent rose in a cloud around them, and Will breathed deep. Deanna could sense both his body and mind relaxing. Her hands sank into his muscles, kneading through knots built from harsh restraint. All the while, she whispered her love to him along their telepathic bond, and he sent back the only word he could manage: _imzadi_.

When light returned to Will’s eyes, he groaned and stretched his back, his limbs still heavy and his movements awkward. Deanna could feel a release in his mind, a contentment and clarity muddied only, now, by exhaustion. He smiled up at her, blinking slowly, and Deanna bent to brush a kiss across his lips.

“How are you feeling, imzadi?”

Will’s voice was groggy. “You know how I feel, Deanna.”

Deanna smiled. That was her Will. “Will you be alright if I get some food from the replicator?” She knew the answer before she asked the question, but she wanted Will’s focus on his surroundings, on the physical world.

“Yes,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving her face. Deanna gently pushed herself off the bed, keeping her awareness centered on Will as she hurried over to the replicator, coming back with a plate of soft chocolate chip cookies, an old Earth favorite. Will rested his head again in her lap as she fed him small bites and sips of cool water. When she could sense him flagging, she set the food aside.

Will’s exhaustion was overrunning his senses. As he leaned back into the now-sticky sheets, she heard him whisper, “Let me hold you.”

And she did, curling into his arms, his face buried in her wild curls and her hands tangled in his mat of chest hair. They fell asleep entwined, a pulsing energy of trust, and reverence, and love traveling along an open highway between them.


End file.
